Bad Breaks
by Vol lady
Summary: Set just after "Under a Dark Star." Nick gets into a fight in Harry's saloon with Keno's nemesis Jack Follet, who is discovered dead in an alley 20 minutes later. This time, it looks like Nick might actually be responsible for Follet's death. The Barkleys have to figure out how to help him, with his lawyer laid up with a broken ankle.
1. Chapter 1

Bad Breaks

Chapter 1

Nick and Heath went after Jarrod, after he had gone after Keno Nash, only to find them heading back toward the ranch. Jarrod was mounted but slumped over, and Keno was leading the horse and carrying his pup. Nick was immediately ready to jump down and throttle Keno, but as soon as they arrived, Jarrod sat up straighter. "It's all right," he said. "I stepped in one of your bear traps. Keno was helping me back to the house."

"How bad is it?" Nick asked.

"Bad enough," Jarrod said, and they saw that he was sweating and starting to slump again.

"I'll go fetch the doc," Heath said and took off for town.

Nick put his horse beside Jarrod's and took hold of his arm, to help keep him in the saddle. Keno said nothing the whole time the two of them got Jarrod back to the house. There were plenty of men to help him out of the saddle, into the house and up to his bed.

With all the attention on Jarrod and Keno, no one noticed Jack Follet had collected his things and was riding away. He noticed them, though, and had nothing but hate in his eyes for all of them.

Dr. Merar came, examined Jarrod's ankle and pronounced it beautifully broken. He said the bear trap would have crushed it but for the boot and sock that took a lot of the pressure. One thing he was worried about, though, were the punctures from the teeth of the trap. The boot and sock had protected Jarrod from the worst of that, but the skin was still broken in several spots, and there were slight punctures.

The risk was infection, especially lockjaw. The trap was never cleaned, so it could have carried all kinds of tetanus and now Jarrod might be carrying it too. And there wasn't a thing anyone could do about it now except treat it as they would treat any infection, or amputate his entire leg (which he nixed). If he contracted lockjaw, they could only try to keep him comfortable and pray that it wasn't fatal. It would be the same story with any other infection.

"Your boot and sock gave you some protection, from the puncture wounds and for the ankle break too," Dr. Merar said. "But you have to stay off of it completely, and I mean completely, for several weeks if the break is going to heal."

Jarrod was able to put the risk of lockjaw into perspective, and after a deep breath or two, he had accepted whatever had to come. But being bedridden for weeks was not a happy prospect. The work he had to do over the next couple months flashed in front of his eyes, and when he sighed and groaned, his family knew it wasn't because of the pain of the ankle or the risk of tetanus or other infection – it was the fact he'd be off his feet for so long.

"How about crutches?" Jarrod asked.

Dr. Merar shook his head. "Only to get from bed to a chair in this bedroom. You can use a commode and sit in a chair for a few hours a day, but that leg has to be elevated. Treat this break too lightly, and you're going to end up on a cane for the rest of your life, or in a wheelchair, or even without that leg."

That threat got Jarrod's attention, and everybody else's. With another groan and a sigh, he accepted the inevitable. "All right. I'm gonna need some help, because I have work I need to be doing. I can do it here if I can get someone to run to town and get what I need."

"Keno," Nick said.

Jarrod looked surprised. "Can Yankee spare him?"

"For a couple hours a day, yeah, he can spare him," Nick said. "Keno got you into this. He's the one who should help you deal with it."

It was settled. Lockjaw, thankfully, never appeared, nor did any other infection. It didn't take long for Jarrod to figure out how to get from his bed to a chair with the crutches. Once he was comfortable doing that, he was back to work full blast. That was why Keno was in town on the day Jack Follet decided he wanted some payback.

Keno came back from town that day with blood on his face and a black eye. Nick was the first to see him when he came into the stable yard. "What the hell happened to you?" Nick asked.

Keno just took Jarrod's papers out of his saddlebag and said, "Nothing."

Keno started for the house, but Nick grabbed his arm. "Nothing, my foot! Who beat you up?!"

"It's really nothing, Mr. Nick," Keno said. "Just leave it alone, please."

"Keno, answer me," Nick ordered.

Keno finally gave in, knowing if he kept refusing Nick, he could get fired. "Jack Follet," he said.

Nick didn't have to ask who started it, but he did ask, "Who saw it happen?"

"Nobody," Keno said. "I was coming out of Mr. Jarrod's building when Follet saw me and pushed me back in. He hit me a few times and then left. Nobody saw him hit me."

"Did you hit back?" Nick asked.

Keno shook his head. "If I hit back, then I'm going back to prison."

Nick decided not to argue with him about that. Keno wouldn't have believed him if he said a fight wouldn't get Keno thrown back in prison anyway, because it was probably true. "Give me the papers for Jarrod and go clean yourself up, Keno. Get back to work with Yankee."

Keno nodded, handing over the papers, and he headed for the pump.

Shaking his head and wondering what, if anything, to say to Jarrod, Nick headed into the house and straight up to Jarrod's bedroom. His older brother was sitting up in bed, papers and books already spread out across his lap and the top of the bed as if it were just another desk. "Where do you want these?" Nick asked.

"Give them here," Jarrod said and reached out for them.

Nick gave them to him, a sour look on his face.

Jarrod noticed. "What's the matter?"

"Keno came in beaten up," Nick said. "He says Jack Follet got to him."

Jarrod nearly growled. "Who saw this?"

"Nobody. Keno says Follet saw him coming out of your building, pushed him back in and beat on him inside the door. Then he left."

"Somebody must have seen Follet push him."

"Maybe, but I got the feeling Keno didn't want to press this any. He's afraid he'll be the one sent to prison."

"I'll talk to him."

"No, Jarrod, maybe we ought to leave it alone for now. If there's more trouble, I'll go plaster Follet myself."

Jarrod eyed his hot-headed brother. "That's what I'm afraid of."

Nick eased up and gave a little chuckle. "You worried I'll find another lawyer if I need one?"

"Well, I can't help you," Jarrod said, still bothered about this and about being laid up. "What I'm afraid of is that Keno will get himself into trouble. All he has to do is hit back, and Follet will parade one little bruise on his cheek into an assault charge against Keno."

"I suppose I could send somebody else in town to fetch for you."

Jarrod sighed. "No, Keno will think we're blaming him for Follet's attack. Did he see the sheriff about it?"

"I doubt it."

"Tell him if it happens again, he's to go straight to the sheriff and report it, whether he wants to press charges or not."

"All right," Nick said and began to leave. "Do you need anything?"

Jarrod looked at the mess of papers and books in front of him. "The doctor to tell me I can get out of bed and come down to the library to work."

"Sorry, Big Brother. I don't want to be pushing you around in a wheelchair for the next forty years."

The doctor did return every few days, and what he usually said was, "It's doing very well. Stay off of it."

"How long am I going to have to stay off of it?" Jarrod would always ask.

"Another week at least," the doctor would say, and then another week would turn into another week until four weeks after he was injured, Jarrod was still confined to his bedroom. He was allowed more time in the chair and visits down to the wc on his crutches, but he was not allowed to put any weight on the injured ankle and he was not allowed to take the stairs.

But Jack Follet did not prove to be trouble again over the next few days. In fact, people were pretty sure he had left the area. Keno healed up just fine, and the beating he took was forgotten – until one day, just over a month after Jarrod was injured and Follet was fired, the man turned up again in Stockton.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Nick and Heath had come into town to go to the bank and fetch supplies, and they were the first of the Barkley men to see that Jack Follet was back. They spotted him as they were packing up the wagon to leave and Follet went into Harry's saloon. Nick scowled heavily.

"Is Keno coming in today, do you know?" Nick asked Heath.

"No," Heath said. "I told Jarrod we were coming in and would fetch anything he needed, and he said he didn't need anything today."

Nick gave a satisfied grunt. "Maybe we should just go have a drink and let Mr. Follet know that we know he's here."

"No, Nick, I think we best leave him alone," Heath said. "If we start into it with him and end up in jail, Jarrod won't be able to come bail us out. Do you want Mother coming in to bail us out?"

Nick heaved a sigh. "I hate it when you're sensible."

Heath climbed up into the wagon, while Nick got in beside him and took the reins, even though he was still glaring toward Harry's saloon.

On the way home, they decided not to mention Follet to anyone. The hands were pretty fairly split as to whether they hated Follet or thought he'd been given a raw deal, and Nick and Heath didn't want to inflame the argument. Follet might just be passing through, and it was foolish to risk a fight breaking out if he was going to be gone in a day or two. Jarrod didn't need the worry, nor did Victoria or Audra. They left it alone.

But the next day, Jarrod sent Keno in for some work his secretary was finishing up, and as he entered Jarrod's building, Keno heard a voice he hated over his shoulder. "Howdy, Keno."

Keno turned and looked at him, then turned away and went into the building. Follet followed him. Keno was up two steps when he felt Follet at his shoulder.

"Careful now, Keno, don't trip and fall on those stairs."

Keno looked into that ugly grin of Follet's. "I'm going to Mr. Jarrod's office," he said. "You best get while you can."

Follet laughed. "Or what, Keno? You gonna hit me?"

Jarrod's secretary stepped out of the office and appeared at the top of the stairs. She had heard the voices. She knew trouble when she heard it. "Problem, Keno?" she asked, but she glared at Follet.

Follet grinned and tipped his hat to her. "No problem, ma'am," Follet said and left.

Keno continued up the stairs, saying, "I'm sorry, Miss Angie."

Since Keno had been running errands for Jarrod, he and Jarrod's secretary had gotten to know one another. Practically everyone in town knew Jack Follet meant to goad Keno into something that would get him into trouble. Angie wasn't about to let it happen while she was watching. "You probably ought to tell the sheriff about that Follet character bothering you, because if you don't, Keno, I will."

"He didn't do nothing, Miss Angie," Keno said.

"That's not the reason you should tell him. You need to get it on record with the sheriff that Follet's being a problem, in case it gets worse and you need a hand. The sheriff will write it down every time you complain, and if Follet gets really bad, you'll have an official record of all his grief."

Keno understood. Nick had said the same thing to him when Follet had bothered him before. "All right, Miss Angie. I'll see him after I get Mr. Jarrod's papers."

Angie smiled. "Come on up."

XXXXXXX

Keno hated having to tell Nick that Follet had bothered him again but the sheriff recommended he do that, so he did, just as soon as got back to the ranch and found Nick in the stable yard. Nick gave an angry huff.

Keno immediately said, "Don't go trying to do anything about this, Mr. Nick. Please, I don't want any more trouble."

"I know you don't, Keno," Nick said. "But you've done good work for us. I don't leave a good hand hung out to dry."

"Mr. Nick – " Keno said. "Why don't somebody else just do the running for Mr. Jarrod? Follet's likely to move on again soon anyway. I can just stay away from town until he does."

Nick felt bad about Keno having to do that, but it was a simple solution. "Keno, we can do whatever you want."

"That's what I want," Keno said.

Nick nodded with a small smile. "Did you tell the sheriff about what happened today?"

Keno nodded.

"Good," Nick said. "You get back to work with Yankee. I'll give these papers to my brother and see who he wants to send running for him."

"Thanks," Keno said, handed the papers over, and took his mount into the stable to put it away.

Nick went into the house and up to Jarrod's bedroom, where he found his brother in bed with the papers and books spread out around him again. Jarrod reached for the batch Nick carried.

"I need to get you another runner," Nick said. "Follet's back and after Keno again."

Jarrod glared.

"Nothing serious happened, and Keno told the sheriff about it, but Keno would just as soon avoid town until Follet leaves."

Jarrod nodded. "All right. It's his decision. Whoever you get to run for me is fine, Nick. With any luck, it'll only be for a week or two more."

"Better not get your hopes up, Pappy. Even if Doc Merar lets you on crutches and up and down stairs, he's not gonna let you go to work or even go into town for another few weeks."

Jarrod sighed. "You're right, of course. Damned traps. I hope you at least caught that bear."

"Nope, never did," Nick said as he headed for the door. "He must have moved on."

"Great," Jarrod muttered.

XXXXXXX

A couple days later, Nick had to go into Stockton to get some roofing material and supplies from the dry goods store. He went alone, without telling anyone except Heath. It just wasn't that big a project or that big a deal. It took less than fifteen minutes to make the purchase and load up the wagon, and seeing as it was early afternoon, Nick thought he'd go get himself a beer.

Harry's saloon was fairly quiet, only one man back in the corner drinking a beer, his hat tipped low. There were two of the girls there too, talking to Harry, and that was it. Nick went straight to the bar. "Kinda quiet in here, Harry," he said and put money on the bar. "Beer. Hi, ladies."

"How are you doing, Nick?" one of the girls said.

"Just in town running some errands," Nick said. "Would either of you ladies like a drink?"

"Not just yet," the girl said as they both shook their heads. "Still too early in the day."

Harry served Nick his beer, but kept his head down and spoke quietly. "That's Jack Follet in the corner, Nick."

Nick looked over his shoulder, then back at Harry. "He's not causing any trouble, is he?"

"Not yet," Harry said, "but he's been bad-mouthing you for firing him over the last few days. Don't let anything break out in here, okay?"

Nick sipped his beer. "I won't be starting anything."

Nick chatted with Harry and the girls and was finished and about to leave when he sensed Follet moving behind him. In just a moment, Follet was standing next to him, and the girls were moving away to someplace that was safer.

"How you doing, Nick?" Follet asked.

"Fine," Nick said and left it at that. He started to move toward the door.

Follet blocked his path. "You know, word got out you fired me and I'm having trouble finding me another job."

"That's your problem, Follet, not mine," Nick said and tried to move around him.

Follet moved to block him again. "You pretty well shot a lot of holes in my life."

"You did all the shooting yourself," Nick said. "Now, kindly get out of my way."

Follet blocked him a third time. Without a word, Nick gently pushed him aside.

That was all Follet needed. He threw a punch. Nick saw it coming and ducked it, and then they had at it full steam ahead.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Blows landed and tables and chairs turned over but the fight was really over in less than a minute. Nick wiped some sweat off his face and stared at Follet sitting on the floor next to a fallen table. "Stay out of my way, and stay away from our hands," Nick growled down at the man, "or I'll see you keeping company with Sheriff Madden."

"The hell with you, Barkley," Follet growled.

Nick silently put money for the damages on the bar and then just walked out as Follet climbed to his feet. "Get out," Harry told him. "Don't come back in here."

Follet wiped some blood from his lip and then wandered out the door, unsteady and mad. With a big sigh, Harry came out from behind the bar, looked outside and saw that Follet was moving on. Then he started to set the tables upright, while his two girls put the chairs back where they belonged. Hardly the worst fight Harry had ever seen in here, but he never liked any of them. _Probably should have opened a ladies' dress shop_ , he thought to himself.

Nick went straight to his wagon and headed on home, thinking no more of the fight, not even worried he'd have to explain it to anyone because he only left a little blood from a damaged lip on the sleeve of his shirt. But as soon as he got home, turned the wagon over to one of the hands there, and walked into the house, his mother got a look at him and said, "Oh, Nick."

"What?" Nick asked.

"Your lip is bleeding and swelling up," Victoria said.

"Oh," Nick said and wiped the blood away. "Just a little disagreement."

"With Jack Follet?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact. I'm gonna go get some ice for this."

Nick headed for the kitchen with Victoria right behind him. Silas was cleaning dishes and noticed right away that Nick was fetching a piece of ice from the ice box. He just shook his head.

"What happened?" Victoria asked.

"He threw the first punch, Mother," Nick said. "I tried to move him gently out of my way, and he took a swing because he didn't want to go. It was over in half a minute."

"Was he hurt?"

"Not enough to keep from chewing me out," Nick said.

Victoria looked more troubled than Nick thought she ought to. "I want to talk to Jarrod. There has to be something we can do about Follet."

"Maybe get Fred to run him out of town for good," Nick said, muttering because he had the ice on his lip now and it hindered his speech.

"I'll see what Jarrod says," Victoria said and headed up the back stairs.

Nick caught Silas smiling a little. Silas caught him looking. "Just thinking I better get some more ice, Mr. Nick," Silas said.

"Maybe so, if Jack Follet is allowed to stick around," Nick admitted.

Victoria knocked at Jarrod's door and went in when he answered. He was in a chair by the window, just watching the activity out in the yard – and looking a bit jealous. "Mother," he greeted her, and then he saw her face. "Something wrong?"

"Nick had a tussle with Jack Follet in town," Victoria said, sitting down on the edge of Jarrod's bed.

Jarrod groaned. "Any damage?"

"Nick's lip. I don't know about Follet. Nick says he chewed him out, so I don't suppose he could have been hurt very badly. But first Keno, now Nick. We really can't let this go on until someone really gets hurt. What can we do, Jarrod?"

Jarrod sighed. "Well, if I were on my feet, I'd go to town and see about a restraining order that would let Fred keep him out of town. He'd probably move on then. Has Dr. Merar said anything more to you about when he'll let me get out and around on these crutches?"

Victoria shook her head. "Even if he let you come downstairs and get around on crutches tomorrow, he wouldn't be happy to see you in town. It's a very bad break, Jarrod. Please don't take it lightly."

"I've been babying it for a month, Mother," Jarrod said. "I'm not taking it lightly."

"Couldn't you draw up a request for a restraining order and have someone else run it into the court?"

"I could," Jarrod said, "but the judge usually has questions before he'll issue a restraining order. A runner wouldn't be able to answer them."

"How about using another lawyer?"

"There's still the same problem. Somebody would have to spend a bit of time filling him in on Follet."

"Maybe we should try that. We can't just keep everyone out of town."

"How badly is Nick beat up?"

"Not badly at all. Just a split lip."

"Well, then, I think you're worrying for nothing. It couldn't have been much of a fight if Nick isn't sporting a black eye or the like."

Victoria got up, still bothered, and it showed.

"Try not to worry so, Mother," Jarrod said. "Follet will be gone before very long. I have a feeling."

XXXX

Jarrod's feeling was accurate, but not in the way he anticipated. He was still sitting near the window, reading a book now, when he heard someone ride into the yard, a big man judging from the heaviness of the sound of the horse. Jarrod looked out, and saw Sheriff Madden dismounting and heading for the front door.

Uneasy, he got up with the crutches and took himself out into the hall and to the stairs. He stayed at the top, knowing he'd catch the devil if he tried to come down. He found his Mother greeting the sheriff, but neither one of them looked happy. They both saw him and looked up.

"Jarrod," the sheriff said. "How are you doing?"

"Hobbling," Jarrod said. "I'm not allowed down the stairs yet. What's happening, Fred?"

Victoria looked up at him. "He's here to arrest Nick."

"Arrest Nick?" Jarrod asked, alarmed. "What for?"

"He had fight with Jack Follet this afternoon," Sheriff Madden said.

"So he said," Jarrod said, "but it wasn't much."

"It was enough," the sheriff said, regretting what he had to say next. "About 20 minutes after that fight, Harry found Jack Follet in the alley behind the saloon, dead."

"Dead?!"

"Doc Merar found a blow to the back of his head."

"You can't think for a minute that Nick would murder Jack Follet!"

"No, I don't, and according to Harry, Nick rode right out of town just as Follet was leaving the saloon, but Jarrod – it looks like he might have gotten that head injury in the fight. Harry says Nick knocked Follet down and tables got turned over. Follet might have hit his head when he fell. I took it to the prosecutor's office. They said I need to arrest Nick on a murder charge."

"That's crazy!"

"He's out in the field," Victoria said. "At the north ridge."

Sheriff Madden. "I'm sorry, Victoria, but I've got to go take him in."

"Fred – " Jarrod said.

"I'm sorry, Jarrod, sorrier than I can say," the sheriff said and nodded a good-bye to Victoria as he left.

Victoria looked up at her oldest son. Of all the times for Jarrod to be incapacitated, this had to be the worst. She could see his mind working, figuring out how to get dressed and get down the stairs and get to town. "Jarrod," she said. "Let Heath go to town and get Nick another lawyer."

Jarrod didn't even look like he was considering it. He turned and hauled himself back to his room.

XXXX

Heath was there in less than half an hour and taking the stairs two at a time up to Jarrod's room. He knocked. Jarrod could tell who it was by the ferocity of his knock. He told him to come in, and Heath went in fast. Jarrod was seated on the bed, already half dressed, lacking only his pants and boots. Heath could only guess how his older brother had gathered his clothing together and gotten it to the bed while struggling with crutches.

"Did Fred take Nick away?" Jarrod asked.

"Yeah," Heath said. "He's gonna need a lawyer, Jarrod."

"Well, he's got me," Jarrod said.

"Jarrod, don't risk that ankle. Let me get him somebody else. Tell me who to get."

Jarrod pointed to his pants. He'd left them draped over the back of a chair, just out of reach. "Hand me my pants, Heath."

"Jarrod – "

Jarrod just pointed to his pants and gave Heath a nod.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Jarrod, this is not a good idea," Heath warned but handed him his pants anyway.

Jarrod looked at the pants, especially the right leg that was not going to fit over the heavy bandage on his ankle. He held his hand out. ""Give me your knife."

"Jarrod – "

"I need to open up the bottom of this right leg," Jarrod said. "Give me your knife."

"What if I refuse?"

"Then I'll rip it open with my teeth! Give me your knife!"

Heath gave in, took out his pocketknife and opened it before handing it over.

Jarrod cut the lower part of the right leg of the pants along the seam, hoping he would still be able to get the rest of that pant leg over the bandage. He handed the knife back to Heath and set about putting his pants on. It worked. He stood up on his good leg and pulled the pants all the way up, fastening them. He noted he'd lost weight – they were loose. "Hand me my belt," he said.

Heath handed him the belt, then took hold of his arm to keep him from falling while he put the belt on and buckled it. "This is not a good idea, Jarrod," he repeated.

Jarrod sat down again. "Give me my left boot."

Heath fetched it. "Just how are you gonna get down the stairs?"

"You'll help me," Jarrod said.

"Mother will give me my walking papers if I do."

"No, she won't. You've got a good lawyer." Jarrod pulled his boot on and stood up again, holding onto the headboard. "Give me the crutches."

Heath handed them over, and Jarrod got himself steady on them, keeping his injured right ankle off of the floor. "I could do this for you, you know. You don't have to go into town. Knowing Doc Merar, he'll have you arrested if he sees you up and around."

"No, you can't do this for me, and it's not really a problem," Jarrod said. "If I get arrested, I'll have all the time I need to talk to Nick in jail."

"If you end up worse because of this, I'm never gonna forgive myself."

"Of course you will," Jarrod said. "It's my idea, and you know if you didn't help me I'd get up and do it all myself, and that really would put me in a wheelchair for life."

Heath sighed. "I think you got the lion's share of the Barkley stubbornness."

"And I use it proudly," Jarrod said. "Now, let's go. Just stick with me and steady me when I need it."

Jarrod headed for the door, Heath not far behind him, saying, "You take a tumble down the stairs, and I might bash you in the head to finish you off."

"No, you won't," Jarrod said. "That would leave Nick without a lawyer."

"You're driving me crazy," Heath muttered, followed Jarrod out the door and closed it behind them.

When they got to the stairs, Jarrod took it very slowly, putting the crutches down one step before he let himself down, one step at a time. Heath held onto his arm for stability. They were nearly down when Victoria spotted them and gave him a motherly, "Jarrod Barkley! What do you think you're doing?!"

Jarrod kept on descending. "I need to go talk to Nick, Mother," he said. "Don't stop me."

"You could ruin that ankle for life!"

"Can't be helped," Jarrod said, "but I won't put any weight on it, I promise."

He and Heath were at the bottom now. Victoria stood in their way and stopped them. "And what if you should fall? You will ruin that ankle if you fall and you could spend the rest of your life in a wheelchair."

Jarrod took a deep breath and looked at his mother very seriously. "It's either me riding in a wheelchair or Nick swinging from a rope, Mother. Take your pick."

A cold chill kept Victoria quiet. How could she make a choice like that?

Jarrod gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "We're going to town, Mother. Be back in a few hours."

XXXX

Heath drove Jarrod to town in a buggy and helped him out in front of the sheriff's office once they got there. Before Heath could get the buggy hitched, Jarrod had gotten himself halfway to the door, when Sheriff Madden came out boiling mad. "Jarrod, what the hell are you doing?"

"I've come to see my client, Sheriff," Jarrod said.

Heath hitched the rig quickly and came to Jarrod's side to steady him if needed.

"You belong in bed," Sheriff Madden said. "For your own good, I'm not letting you in here."

"Well, then, I'll just have to go get a court order, won't I?" Jarrod said. "Let me in, Fred, and I'll be out of your hair in less than ten minutes."

Sheriff Madden opened the door and stepped aside with a grunt – and a dirty look at Heath who followed Jarrod in.

Once inside, Jarrod waited for the sheriff to open the cellblock door, which he did. Heath gave up his handgun, and he and Jarrod went into the cellblock and confronted Nick, who was pacing up and down his cell. Nick stopped, looked at them, and glared. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Talkng to my client," Jarrod said as the sheriff shoved a chair in behind him, then left and closed the cellblock door.

"You're just aching to be a cripple, aren't you?" Nick grumbled.

Heath held the chair as Jarrod handed him the crutches and sat down. Seeing there was no place for Jarrod to rest his foot, Heath quickly took his jacket off, bundled it up and put it on the floor. Jarrod eased his damaged leg down. "You're just aching to hang, aren't you?" Jarrod said. "Tell me what happened."

"Follet opened his big mouth in the saloon, we got into a fight, I left," Nick said. "He was on the floor when I left, but he was awake and swearing at me."

"Who threw the first punch?"

"He did – after I tried to gently move him out of the way."

"Did you hit him in the head with a bottle or anything, or did he hit his head on anything when he fell?" Jarrod asked.

"No!" Nick said. "And Harry will testify to that – I think."

Now Nick was hesitating. "So maybe he did hit his head?" Jarrod asked.

"No!" Nick said again. "Not that I saw anyway."

"Who else was in there?"

"Couple of the girls. Harry will remember who."

Jarrod looked toward Heath. "We'll need to go see Harry, too."

"Jarrod – " Nick started to protest.

"Did anybody else see this fight?" Jarrod asked.

"I don't think so," Nick said. "Look, Jarrod, it was a nothing fight! I don't know why Fred arrested me!"

"Because Follet died, and you were the last one to tangle with him," Jarrod said. "If he died because he fell and hit his head during the fight or even after it, or if you hit him with something, you are in a world of trouble, Nick."

Nick grew solemn. "But he didn't hit his head, and I didn't hit him with anything."

"Well, something makes the DA think you were responsible for his head injury," Jarrod said.

"Look, Jarrod, why don't you let me go get Harry and bring him over here?" Heath said. "That way you don't have to hobble on over there."

"Heath, I need a drink," Jarrod said. "And I don't want to talk to Harry in front of Fred or our hot-headed brother here."

"I'm sorry," Nick said quietly. "I lost my temper and I'm sorry."

Jarrod glared at him. "When I get you home, I'm gonna have Doc Merar put me in a wheelchair and MAKE you wheel me around for a year, even if I'm all right! Maybe that will keep you out of trouble."

Nick exchanged a contrite look with Heath, but there was nothing in Heath's eyes except worry. Nick saw it. "I could hang, couldn't I?" Nick asked.

"Yes, you could," Jarrod said. "But I'll do everything I can to straighten this out. I know you wouldn't kill even a man like Follet intentionally."

"If I did it accidentally – " Nick said.

"That might still be a big problem, Nick," Jarrod said, "but I'll do everything I can to get you out of this mess."

"I'm sorry," Nick said. "Jarrod, if anything happens to you because of me – "

"Nothing's going to happen to me, Nick," Jarrod said. "You just look after you and keep your temper to yourself, got that?"

Nick nodded, hanging his head. "I got it."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Harry's saloon was within hobbling distance, so Heath walked beside his brother as he made his way over there on crutches. He got a lot of looks from passers-by – some sympathetic, some exasperated – but he let them all pass. It took longer than usual, but soon he was in Harry's saloon.

There were several men at the bar and at tables there. Jarrod found the quickest place to sit down and eased himself into a chair at an empty table near the door, saying to Heath, "Get Harry to come over here."

Heath bundled his jacket into another chair and helped Jarrod rest his foot there, then he went to the bar. Harry looked at him like he'd just grown another head. "Harry, Jarrod wants to talk to you," Heath said.

"You're nuts for bringing him all the way into town," Harry said. "I'd have come out to the ranch."

"Jarrod's got a burr under his saddle," Heath said. "He won't be coddled, even if he ends up ruining that ankle. And he wanted to talk to Nick, so here we are."

"Do you want a couple beers?" Harry asked.

"Bring a bottle of whiskey and a couple glasses," Heath said and went back to sit down with Jarrod.

Harry was right behind him, setting the glasses down and pouring whiskey for Jarrod and Heath. "What do you want to know, Jarrod?" Harry asked.

"After Nick fought with Follet," Jarrod said, "did the man just get up and walk out?"

"Stumbled out a bit," Harry said.

"Did he have any blood on his head – like he'd hit a railing or something?" Jarrod asked.

"Not that I saw," Harry said. "He wasn't rubbing it or anything, and there wasn't any blood I could see except around his mouth where Nick hit him."

"How about blood on one of the tables or steps or railings?" Jarrod asked.

"Nothing I had to clean up," Harry said.

"Did you see him hit his head, or did Nick hit him in the head with anything?"

"Not that I saw, Jarrod. I'll tell you, I don't know why Nick's been arrested. This fight was mild by Nick Barkley standards, and Follet started it anyway. If Follet got hit in the head somehow, it wasn't in here."

Jarrod cogitated. "Nick said there were a couple of girls here at the time, too."

"Betsy and Annie," Harry said.

"Are they here now?"

"They'll be back in later," Harry said.

"Jarrod, let me come talk to them tonight," Heath said quickly. "You don't need to be hanging around town much longer."

Jarrod just nodded. "Were there any other patrons here when Nick and Follet fought?"

"No," Harry said.

Jarrod downed his whiskey and Harry poured another for him. Jarrod was silent then, eyes narrowed, thinking. He finally asked, "What haven't I asked, Harry? Do you know anything about Follet's death that I haven't asked you about?"

Harry actually sat down with them. "Jarrod, like I said, I don't know why Nick was arrested. It doesn't make a bit of sense to me. It was just another bar fight and a mild one to boot. And I told that to the sheriff and to Archer."

"Archer?" Jarrod said, surprised. Now he knew why Nick was in jail – it was Archer's doing. He looked at Heath. "Did you know Archer was involved with this?"

Heath sighed. "I knew. Fred told us when he took Nick in."

"And you didn't think to tell me?" Jarrod was livid.

"Fred and Nick and I decided not to mention it to anybody else because we figured if you found out, you'd do just what you're doing – jump out of bed and come running to stick your nose in," and Heath regretted the words he used as soon as they came out of his mouth.

"Stick my nose in?!" Jarrod blasted at him.

"Those are Nick's words, not mine," Heath said.

"What in the hell is the matter with everybody around here?!" Jarrod yelled, as loudly as Heath had ever heard him yell, and other patrons stopped and listened. "You're gonna let Archer have at Nick and maybe get him hung just because I have a broken ankle?!"

"Jarrod, I'm just doing what Nick wanted," Heath said.

"Nick isn't doing me any favors, or himself!" Jarrod blasted away. Then he downed his second glass of whiskey and tried to calm himself down.

Harry poured him another.

Jarrod rubbed his forehead. It was starting to hurt. "All right," he said and took some deep breaths. "The question is, what do we do now that I've 'stuck my nose in'?"

"I'll do whatever you want me to do, Jarrod," Heath said, "but you start trying to do too much or trying to get around on that ankle, and all bets are off. I'll take you home if I have to carry you myself."

Jarrod got his breath back and gave into him. "All right, Heath. But before we go home, I want to see Dr. Merar about Follet, and then I want to see Archer."

"You haven't been out of bed much," Heath said. "Are you strong enough to do all that?"

"I guess we'll find out."

XXXXXX

Jarrod expected to get a dressing down from Dr. Merar, and he got it. And he endured it, knowing he'd have to if they were going to get onto the subject of Jack Follet's death.

"I meant it when I told you you could end up crippled for life, Jarrod," the good doctor said after telling Jarrod to get on home and get off his feet. "That ankle isn't so far from being crushed. It's gonna take a good while to heal, and it won't do it if you keep stressing it."

"I know," Jarrod said, fighting to keep calm, "but Nick is in big trouble. Is saving my ankle worth his life? I don't think so, so let's just forget about me and get to Jack Follet. The sooner we do, the sooner I go home."

The doctor sighed. "All right. What do you want to know?"

"The word is he died from a head injury," Jarrod said.

"That's right," Dr. Merar said.

"He had a fight with Nick and that was the last anybody's said they saw him, but Nick says that after the fight, Follet didn't seem to have any head injury. Harry at the saloon says the same thing. Is it possible he sustained the head injury at some other time?"

"Yes, of course," Dr. Merar said, "but it would have been very soon after the fight. He was found in the alley not 20 minutes after the fight."

"That's still enough time for someone else to take advantage of Nick's battle with him and knock him over the head, isn't it?"

"Certainly," Dr. Merar said.

"Is there any way for you to tell if that did or did not happen?"

Dr. Merar shook his head. "No. The head injury that killed him happened either in the fight or within minutes of the fight, and there's no way I can tell which."

"So, it would take finding some evidence of how Follet sustained that head injury to be sure – like an axe handle with blood on it, or a step or a table in the saloon with blood on it."

"That's what it would take."

"And if there is no step or table or anything in the saloon with blood on it that would indicate that Follet was clobbered there….."

Dr. Merar nodded. "Then I would say he wasn't clobbered there, but to be absolutely sure, you'd have to find that axe handle in the alley."

"If there's such an axe handle, it's probably long gone," Heath said.

"Probably," Jarrod agreed. "For a trial, we wouldn't have to have the axe handle to create reasonable doubt, but it sure would help to have the solid evidence that it was that axe handle that killed Follet and Nick wasn't swinging it."

Heath saw Jarrod's plan in his eyes. "Jarrod, there is no way in hell I'm gonna let you go searching that alley for an axe handle."

"And if you try, I'm gonna have you locked up for something," Dr. Merar said.

Jarrod smiled a little. "Foolishness is not an offense under the law," he said, "lucky for me. Don't worry, I know when something is even too foolish for me to be doing under the circumstances. But I do have to go see Archer. I doubt I can talk him into dropping the charges, but I have to try. Doctor, is there anything else I should know about why Jack Follet died?"

Dr. Merar shook his head. "It was a blow to the head, Jarrod, and there's no way I can tell how he got it."

Jarrod nodded and stood up on his good leg. Heath immediately stood and took hold of him by one arm. Dr. Merar got him by the other arm. Jarrod adjusted the crutches and moved toward the door, saying, "Thanks, Doctor. Let me know if anything else comes to mind."

Behind Jarrod's back, Heath looked at the doctor, pointing to himself and mouthing the words, "Let ME know."

Dr. Merar nodded, saying, "All right," to both of them.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Archer was in his office, writing some sort of motion or brief, when he heard a funny clunking sound and looked up to find Jarrod on crutches in the doorway, Heath right behind him. Archer sat up straight and said, "What do you want?"

"My brother released," Jarrod said and came further in.

"Not a chance," Archer said. "Your brother is responsible for the death of a citizen."

Jarrod sat down, even if he wasn't invited. Heath bundled his jacket on the floor under Jarrod's foot. "Follet wasn't a citizen, and Nick didn't kill him. I've talked to Harry and I've talked to Dr. Merar. Follet died of a blow to the head, and there's no evidence he got it in the bar fight with Nick. He was awake and swearing when Nick left, no evidence of a blow to the head, and no evidence on any step or rail or table that he hit his head in the bar."

"So, he just went outside and hit himself in the head?" Archer said.

"Or someone else hit him," Jarrod said. "Follet made enemies, a lot of them. You've got nothing on Nick."

"The last known fight was between Follet and your brother," Archer said. "Maybe Follet just passed out and hit his head after he left the fight, but if he did, it's still Nick's responsibility. And you have no evidence that someone else hit Follet in the head after Nick left him. Every bit of evidence points to the fight with your brother being the cause of Follet's death. Now, kindly leave so I can continue my work."

"Let me bail him out at least."

"The inquest will be tomorrow afternoon. Until there's a decision exonerating him, he stays were he is."

Jarrod just kept a steady gaze on Archer. "All right, Phil, but you're gonna lose this case."

Archer glared. "Why? Because it's the word of a Barkley against the facts of the case? This time you're dreaming, Jarrod. Your brother is responsible for Follet's death, and you're gonna have to swallow that. Please leave."

Jarrod got to his feet. Heath steadied him and retrieved his jacket. "All right, Phil," Jarrod said. "See you at the inquest."

Archer said nothing and did not look up.

Jarrod hobbled his way out of the office and out of the building, Heath right behind him. They stopped before crossing the street. Jarrod looked like he was getting tired. "Why don't you wait here and I'll go get the rig?" Heath asked.

"Yeah, all right," Jarrod said absently, thinking.

Heath left him next to a hitching rail and was soon coming back with the buggy. He hopped out and hurried to help Jarrod in the other side before the older Barkley decided to do it himself. Getting him in was a lot harder than getting him out but Jarrod managed to do it by putting the knee of his injured leg on the floor of the buggy, then getting his good foot under him and pushing himself into the seat. He managed it with a grunt. Heath was thinking he was not going to be doing this again, despite what Jarrod might want.

As they rode out of town, Jarrod gave a sigh and said, "You're right. I can't go traipsing around on this ankle like there's nothing wrong. I'll do the inquest tomorrow, but if this goes any further, I'm gonna have to let you do the leg work."

"Glad you finally got some sense," Heath said. "Just tell me what you want me to do."

"We gotta find out what happened to Follet after he left the saloon," Jarrod said. "Somebody's bound to have seen something, or that axe handle is somewhere to be found. We need to account for every second after he left that saloon."

"Jarrod, that axe handle might be a myth. Follet may have just keeled over from the fight and hit his head when he fell. And that would mean disaster for Nick, wouldn't it?"

"Yes, it would," Jarrod agreed. "So we're just gonna have to hope and pray there's an axe handle to find and we can find it."

They made plans on the ride home. They discussed what Heath was going to look for, where he was going to look for it and who he was going to talk to.

"And you need to go back into town tonight and talk to Betsy and Annie at the saloon," Jarrod said. "Find out what they saw, see if they saw or even thought Follet had a head injury when he left the saloon."

"You want me to wait until after the inquest to go looking for that axe handle or whatever else we can find?"

"Yeah," Jarrod sighed. "Maybe we'll get lucky at the inquest. I'm gonna argue my head off, that's for sure."

Heath said, "I'd feel a lot better if it wasn't Archer prosecuting."

"So would I," Jarrod said, "but he is. We have to play the hand we've been dealt."

"Well," Heath said with a sigh, "we thought we were in big trouble when I was accused of killing Libby Keane's husband and it all worked out. Maybe we'll get lucky again."

Jarrod sighed and sank back into the seat.

"Tired?" Heath asked.

"Yeah, and scared," Jarrod admitted. "This one is really going to be tough – and this one, Nick might really be responsible for. If Follet just keeled over from the fight and hit his head, that would be the same as if Nick had whacked him over the head with our mythical axe handle."

"I'm not giving up yet, Jarrod," Heath said.

"Nor am I," Jarrod said. "I'm just scared, and frustrated because I can't jump in there and help find something to exonerate Nick."

Heath smiled a little. "Are you worried about leaving it to me?"

"No," Jarrod said quickly. "I know you'll do everything you can to help Nick. I just – don't want to sit this one out and I have to. Nick is my kid brother, Heath. I promised to take care of him when I was four years old, and now I can't do that."

"Yeah, you can, and you are," Heath said. "By trusting me."

Jarrod smiled a crooked little smile that mirrored the one Heath often wore. "You're absolutely right, little brother. Forgive me if I gave you short shrift."

"Not a problem, big brother," Heath said. "I know how you get when you can't run the show."

Jarrod raised his eyebrows at him.

Heath gave him one of his own crooked smiles.

Before long, they were home. Heath helped Jarrod out of the buggy at the door and then helped him inside as Ciego took the rig away. Heath closed the front door behind them, and there were Victoria and Audra, in the foyer at the foot of the stairs.

"How did it go?" Victoria asked quickly.

Jarrod shook his head. "We talked to Nick and to Harry, and we're lucky in that Harry didn't see that Follet had a head injury when he left the saloon, and he didn't have any evidence that Follet had hit his head while he was in the saloon, but he still could have passed out from the beating Nick gave him once he was outside, and fallen and hit his head."

Victoria's heart sank. Audra took hold of her arms. "Nick might really be responsible for Follet's death," Victoria said, almost in a daze.

Jarrod nodded. "But it's not a foregone conclusion. There's no evidence Follet just passed out and hit his head. The problem is, there's no evidence somebody else got to him and hit him after the fight with Nick either. No evidence _yet_."

"So, what do we do now?" Audra asked.

"The inquest is tomorrow afternoon," Jarrod said. "I know you're gonna have a fit, Mother, but I have to handle that inquest."

"I'm going back into town after dinner tonight to talk to a couple of the girls at the saloon who saw the fight," Heath said. "And then if that inquest goes bad, I'm gonna start checking out exactly where Follet went after he left the saloon and who saw him and I'll find any kind of physical evidence there is to find."

"We're not giving up, Mother," Jarrod assured Victoria. "Even if we never find any other evidence of anything, we still know that Follet left the saloon under his own power with no evidence of a head injury."

"But you'd rather find out that someone else hit him, someone other than Nick," Victoria said.

Jarrod nodded.

"You look tired," Victoria said. "You need to get back into bed."

"I need to get moving more often and build my strength back up," Jarrod said. "But I'm leaving the leg work on this to Heath, except for the inquest. And even if the inquest goes against us, I'll try to get Nick bailed out and home with us tomorrow."

"We'll go with you," Victoria said. "If the inquest jury sees the family there, it might help Nick."

Jarrod nodded.

Heath stepped up behind Jarrod and took him by the shoulders. "We better get you back upstairs before you need to be carried. Come on."

Jarrod didn't argue about it. Heath helped him up the stairs, very slowly, and took him to his room, to help him get back to bed.

"Oh, Mother, what a nightmare this is," Audra said as soon as Jarrod and Heath were out of sight.

Victoria nodded, worried almost to tears. "But if there's a way to get Nick out of this, Jarrod and Heath will find it."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Jarrod was so tired after going to town and trying to get Nick cleared of any involvement in Follet's death that he fell asleep quickly after getting back to bed. But sleep brought dreams – dreams of being unable to help Nick, dreams of them taking his brother to the gallows, dreams that stopped just short of watching Nick hang. Jarrod jerked awake, saw he was in his own room and just dreaming. With a moan and a curse to himself, he sat up and pulled pillows up behind him.

There had been other times when Jarrod despaired of getting Nick out of trouble after he'd been in a fight. Nick was just that kind of man, coming out swinging instead of talking, and attracting characters who liked to act the same way. Jarrod wondered again how he and Nick could have become such different men, how he had managed to curb his angrier instincts all these years when Nick could not. Every now and then he thought with a cold chill that he could have become just like Nick, quick to fight and in trouble a lot. He shook his head at the thought. Maybe he was the more calm and deliberate brother because the Good Lord knew he had to be.

There was a knock on the door. "Come in," Jarrod said.

It was Audra, carrying his dinner. "I hope I didn't wake you," she said.

"No," Jarrod said. "Is it time for dinner already?"

"Past time," Audra said. "The rest of us already ate." She picked up the papers Jarrod had spread over the bed and set the tray down on his lap.

"I gotta get out of this bed," Jarrod said. "When does Dr. Merar come again?"

"Three more days," Audra said.

"I'll see him tomorrow at the inquest and talk to him about letting me out and about more often."

Audra sat down in a chair next to the bed. Jarrod saw right away she was troubled and it was obvious why. "I'm worried about Nick, Jarrod."

"So am I," Jarrod said. "But we'll do everything we can to get him out of this."

"What if he is responsible for Jack Follet's death?" Audra asked, her voice shaking. "What if Follet did just pass out and hit his head after the fight?"

Jarrod frowned. "I don't know, Audra. But I don't know how anybody will ever prove that, either, unless somebody comes forward and says they saw it happen."

"If somebody saw something like that happen, then they left Follet to die."

Jarrod nodded. "And that's my argument if somebody says they saw it. Try not to worry, Honey. The prosecution has a harder job than we have on this."

"It's hard not to worry," Audra said. "I mean – even if Nick is responsible and he doesn't hang, he'd go to prison, and I can't even imagine – " She stopped, crying.

Jarrod took her hand. "Trust me, Audra. I'll do everything I possible can."

"And wreck your ankle - and wreck yourself if you lose Nick's case."

Jarrod was hoping that no one had thought of those things happening, but he knew they should have. He squeezed Audra's hand. "I don't plan to lose it, Audra," he said. "Now, you put it out of your mind for now. Go on downstairs and try to relax a bit. I'll be fine here on my own."

Audra leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. Then she smiled and left the room.

But Jarrod knew she wouldn't put it out of her mind. She had adored Nick since the day she could adore anyone. Of course she was worried, and of course she wouldn't stop being worried.

Jarrod suddenly had no appetite.

XXXXXXX

It was another struggle to get Jarrod in and out of the buggy the next afternoon to go to town. They took two buggies – Heath and Jarrod in one, Victoria driving Audra in the other. They saw the sheriff already taking Nick inside when they reached the courthouse. As they went into the conference room where the inquest jury had already gathered, they each gave Nick a reassuring smile. He was happy to see them – and extremely pissed off they had to be there. But he reined his anger in. He knew he couldn't treat this hearing like he might treat some other proceeding that wasn't against him. His lawyer big brother had lectured him often enough, and he'd heard Jarrod lecture other defendants often enough, to know he had to sit down and be quiet and suffer his emotions alone.

Of course, he wasn't a defendant here, not yet anyway. He didn't have shackles on, and he was not sitting anywhere except in the group of chairs reserved for everyone who was not on the jury. Sheriff Madden had already put himself standing at the back of the room. He didn't want to be seen with anyone in particular. He didn't want to prejudice this jury.

It started matter of factly. Dr. Merar, as medical examiner, explained the basics – that Jack Follet had been found dead behind Harry's saloon with a fatal head injury. Then Phil Archer began his presentation.

"Certain facts are not in dispute," Archer said.

Jarrod immediately said, "Let's not get into what's disputed and not disputed just yet, Mr. Prosecutor."

Archer nodded, but did not withdraw his comment. "The deceased was found dead 20 minutes after being involved in a fight in Harry's saloon with Nick Barkley." He motioned toward Nick. "Now, I concede that at this point, there is no evidence that the deceased left that saloon with any head injury, but there is no evidence except the head injury to explain how he died. Anything either I or Mr. Barkley would say to you on that subject is speculation. Mr. Barkley will tell you that someone else – some unknown person – struck the deceased and killed him after he left the saloon. I would say that it's just as likely that the deceased was injured enough in that fight that he went into that alley, fell and hit his head because of his injuries from the fight. What I do say to you is this – that the only real evidence we have is that Nick Barkley is the last person known to have anything to do with the deceased that injured him. That being so, Nick Barkley must accept the responsibility for anything that happened to the deceased because of injuries he received in the fight in the saloon. There is no evidence – no evidence at all – that anyone else injured the deceased in any way."

Archer went on arguing, finally concluding that anything that happened to Follet after he left the saloon was Nick's responsibility. Nick sat there, boiling, trying not to let it show, trying not to let anyone know that he wanted to take Archer out into the street and have at him right now. When he felt himself weakening, he looked toward his family, especially Jarrod. They all wore poker faces, so he kept his on, too.

It finally came to Jarrod's turn to speak. He apologized for remaining seated, but Dr. Merar had forbidden him to stand because of his broken ankle. "And if I don't listen to the doctor, he'll have me in bed for another month," Jarrod said, and some chuckles came from men who had been on the receiving end of Dr. Merar's firm advice themselves. Jarrod went on. "Mr. Archer has pointed out to you that there is no evidence whatsoever that the deceased left the bar after the fight with a head injury, and he's right. What he's not right about is leaping to the conclusion that the fight in the saloon must have resulted in the deceased's injuries simply because there is no evidence of how they occurred. Gentlemen, that is not enough to conclude that the deceased injuries are a result of the fight. Moreover, the saloon owner is here and will testify that the deceased started that fight in the saloon when he threw a punch at Mr. Barkley that he did not land. All the evidence we have will show that the deceased was responsible for the fight in which he was injured, that he left the saloon under his own power, and that's all the evidence will show."

Jarrod went on, concluding that the only decisions the jury could reach was that the deceased death was caused by person or persons unknown, or by causes unknown. Harry was the first witness called, and he testified as Jarrod said he would. Then Archer asked him a question.

"Why did the deceased throw a punch at Nick Barkley?"

Harry spoke honestly. "Nick Barkley was trying to leave the bar and the deceased blocked his way. Nick asked him to move, and he wouldn't move. Nick pushed him to the side slightly, and the deceased started swinging."

"Nick Barkley pushed the deceased to the side?" Archer asked, emphasizing the word "pushed."

"Only slightly," Harry said

"But he pushed him."

"Yes," Harry conceded.

"The deceased did not touch Nick Barkley until Nick Barkley pushed him."

"It wasn't really a push."

"You said it was a push. That was your word, 'push'."

"But it was more like he was just nudging him, moving him aside."

"But Nick Barkley touched the deceased before the deceased touched him."

"Yes," Harry admitted.

When it was Jarrod's turn, he asked Harry, "Did Nick Barkley start that fight?"

Archer objected, but Dr. Merar let Harry answer. "No. The deceased was belligerent and in Nick's way. Nick didn't hit him, just tried to move him aside."

The sheriff testified, and the only evidence that came out of his testimony was that he had searched the alley after Follet was found, and he could find no evidence in that alley that would connect to Follet's head injury. No axe handle, but nothing Follet would have fallen and hit his head on, either. Archer argued that the lack of evidence meant that Follet had to have received his head injury in the bar fight. Jarrod argued that the only evidence on that point was that he did not receive the head injury in the bar fight. Then he looked every one of the jurors in the eye, one by one, and argued that since there was no evidence of what he might have hit his head on in the alley, that indicated that whatever had hit him had been removed, and someone removed it.

That was about the end of it. Everyone left the room, and the Barkleys waited in the hall with Nick and the sheriff, while Archer went back to his office. Nick would have paced, but he didn't want to be caught doing anything other than sitting beside his mother quietly, for which Jarrod was grateful. Jarrod was exhausted, far more than he thought he ought to be, but then Heath reminded him this was only his second day out in the world. He shouldn't have expected to feel his usual strong self.

But Victoria could see that her oldest son was worried, and she was worried too. Nick kept squeezing her hand, smiling a little to try to calm her down, but she knew Nick was scared too. Put aside what might happen to him if he was found responsible for Follet's death. Just being responsible for it would weigh on Nick so much it might drag him into the ground.

The jury came back with a finding of death caused by person or persons unknown. Jarrod only half liked that – it was better than a finding that Nick caused it - but Archer liked it less. He had to tell the sheriff to let Nick go.

The family was happy, thinking this was all over now, but Jarrod saw the look in Archer's eyes. A finding of "death caused by person or persons unknown" meant that Archer could keep investigating and trying to pin Follet's death on Nick. Jarrod didn't say anything to anyone about that though, not now. He'd have to warn them about it, but not here. Later, at home, he'd have to throw them all back into worrying.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"Dr. Merar – " Jarrod said as they were all leaving.

The doctor turned toward Jarrod, knowing what he might be hearing in the next few moments.

And he heard it. "Doctor, I have to be able to get around more," Jarrod said. "There's work to do, and I have to do it."

His family heard him but didn't know he was talking about specific work. Dr. Merar looked at them all, knowing they were happy about the jury's finding, but also knowing, as Jarrod knew, that this was not necessarily over. And now here was Jarrod, wanting to be cut loose from the restrictions the doctor had put on him, because Nick might still need him. Dr. Merar sighed. "I don't suppose it's going to matter what I say, is it?"

Jarrod said, "I'll do what you ask me to do, but I need to get moving around and get my strength back as soon as I can."

"You can get around on the crutches more," Dr. Merar said. "You can take the stairs as long as someone helps you. But you're not healed, Jarrod. It's going to take a break like you've had longer than normal to heal."

"I understand that," Jarrod said, "and believe me, I'll go easy on it."

Dr. Merar nodded. "Just as long as you're aware of the risks."

"I only want to build my strength back up," Jarrod said. "I'm not about to go dancing in the streets or anything."

Dr. Merar nodded. "Let's hope you can coast for a while longer with your workload."

The doctor left, and the family bundled themselves together and out to the buggies. Nick rode with Victoria and Audra, doing the driving for them. Jarrod and Heath followed.

The first thing Heath said when he and Jarrod were alone was, "You're not through worrying yet, are you?"

Jarrod took a deep breath. "'Person or persons unknown' means that Archer can keep nosing around. I'm gonna need you to do that legwork we talked about. If that axe handle exists, I need you to find it."

"I'll come back after I get you home," Heath said. "Are you going to tell the others what you just told me?"

"When we get home," Jarrod said. "And listen, until we get this all a bit more settled, I'm gonna tell Nick not to come into town. Follet still had some friends here. We don't need Nick getting into another fight."

"All right," Heath said. "I'll try not to get into one either."

"You'd better not," Jarrod warned. "I don't want to have two of you in Archer's gun sights."

"I know you talked the doctor into letting you get up and around more, but I hope you're not planning on coming into town anytime soon either. You've been known to throw a punch or two yourself."

Jarrod actually chuckled a little, aware Heath was trying to pull him out of his concern. "Not with a broken ankle, I haven't. I might have tried to break a horse or two with a broken leg, but I'm not gonna start any fights."

Heath knew whatever Jarrod was talking about was before his time. "I don't think I want to know about that."

XXXXXXX

Jarrod sank into his "thinking chair" and lifted his foot up onto the coffee table. Heath quickly fetched a pillow and put it on the table under Jarrod's leg. Jarrod thanked him.

"I could use a drink," Nick said and headed for the liquor.

"Listen, I need to talk to everyone," Jarrod said. "I'm afraid the finding of 'person or persons unknown' means that this isn't over yet."

Nick turned fast, looking angry.

Jarrod eyed him. "It means Archer can keep looking for that 'person or persons unknown,' and it can still be you, Nick."

"You gotta be kidding me," Nick said.

"I wish I were," Jarrod said. "But we're not gonna sit around – well, I am, but Heath's not. Heath is my leg man and he's going to do some investigating of our own, starting right now."

Heath said, "I'm heading back to town to start asking some questions."

Nick started to say something and Jarrod knew what it was. "You, Nick," he said quickly. "You are staying on this ranch until further notice. We don't need you getting into another fight."

"I don't have the right to work on my own defense?" Nick asked.

"No, this time, you don't," Jarrod said. "Let Heath handle the legwork and I'll handle the brain work and you'll handle the ranch."

"Jarrod's right," Victoria said. "Your quick temper got you into this. We don't need it getting you into anything else."

On second thought, Nick realized his mother and brother were right. He was inclined to fight first and ask questions later, and he didn't need that right now, not if Jarrod was right and he could still find himself charged in Follet's death. Nick poured himself a whiskey. "I gotta change my ways, don't I?"

"I think we know that's not gonna happen, Nick," Jarrod said. "You are who you are, and we love you. Yes, we wish you didn't get into fights as often as you do, and maybe this will be a warning for you. But we're gonna have to do some work to make sure you get the chance to ease up on the fights without going to prison to do it."

Nick sobered. "You think I could still go to prison, don't you?"

Jarrod said, "Nick, I'm sorry, but it's still a possibility. Until we get to the bottom of this, anything is a possibility."

"We'll find out what happened, Nick," Heath said.

Nick nodded but he knew the truth. "It's still possible that I really am that 'person or persons unknown', isn't it?"

"Yes," Jarrod said honestly. "You may have been the cause of Jack Follet's death, if he fell and hit his head because he was dizzy from the fight or something like that. I'm sorry, Nick, but you've been lucky enough all these years that your fights haven't resulted in something like this. It could have happened anytime."

"And that's why I need to change my ways if I get the chance," Nick said.

Audra looked away. Victoria noticed. She knew her daughter was just as sure as the rest of them that Nick would not be changing his ways much. It just wasn't in him. Victoria said, "Someday, Nick, even if this isn't the day, you're going to pay heavily for that quick temper if you can't control it better."

Nick swallowed his whiskey. "I will work on it, I promise."

"Keep that promise," Victoria said.

XXXXX

Heath was back in town within an hour, and the first place he went was to the sheriff's office. He wanted to talk to Sheriff Madden without either Nick or Jarrod around. He needed a conversation that didn't include lawyer talk or defendant talk, just plain talk. When he went into the office, Sheriff Madden took one look at him and gave a big sigh.

"Well, I knew a Barkley was going to show up," the sheriff said, "and I figured it would probably be you."

Heath closed the door and sat down with the sheriff. "Jarrod explained to us that the finding at the inquest didn't mean this was over."

"No," Sheriff Madden said. "I wish it did, but it doesn't. Archer's already been in here talking to me – and don't ask me what he asked, I can't really say."

"It's all right," Heath said. "I just gotta ask some questions of my own. You said there wasn't any evidence in that alley that would show what Follet hit his head on."

The sheriff shook his head. "He was just lying there. Like Jarrod said, that makes me think there was something and somebody took it away."

"Somebody who might have hit Follet after Nick did," Heath said.

The sheriff nodded.

"Can you help me try to find out who that somebody is?"

Sheriff Madden took a deep breath. "Archer has me investigating more about the fight in the saloon, but even if you didn't ask, I'd be looking at what happened in that alley, too. But I know you. You're gonna keep looking yourself."

"Jarrod asked me to, and I'd be doing it anyway."

"You know I'm gonna expect you to tell me what you find, whatever it is."

"You don't really think Nick is responsible for Follet's death."

"Not intentionally, no. But if what you find says it was the fight that killed him – " The sheriff stopped. He really didn't want to finish the sentence.

"If it was, Sheriff, none of us is gonna try to hide it," Heath said.

"Even if it means Nick at the end of a rope?"

Heath thought about himself, about how he might react if he were in Nick's shoes. He didn't have to think long. "Nick and me, we're a lot alike, and I know if it was me in this jam, I'd still want to know the truth. I don't like doubts in my head. They can be worse than prison, or even hanging."

Sheriff Madden nodded. "I had a feeling you'd say that, and you're right. You and Nick are a lot alike."

Heath got up. "I'm gonna go nosing around. Maybe you or me, we'll turn up something. Is there anybody you've talked to I ought to follow up on?"

Sheriff Madden shook his head. "I haven't had the chance to do much talking to people yet. Can't find a one who saw Follet in that alley, or who will say they saw him."

Heath nodded. "Could be there wasn't anyone."

"Then things will stay right where they are – Follet dead by person or persons unknown. And knowing Nick, that will burn in his mind till the day he dies."

Heath nodded. He knew that was true. Not knowing was a lot worse than knowing, even if what you knew was bad. But this time, that was what Nick might be stuck with, for the rest of his life.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Nick paced a lot, holding his glass of whiskey more than drinking it. It was late. Dinner had come and gone, and Heath wasn't back from town yet. Nick was dying to know what he'd found out, but that wasn't all of it. He was a bit worried that if Heath found out the wrong thing, if he talked to the wrong man, then it could be Heath in deep trouble. And Nick knew that would be his fault, too.

It was so hard not to think "if I hadn't," so hard not to take all of the blame for anything about this on himself. He kicked himself for letting Follet put him in a position where he had to throw punches. And as he looked back over his life, he realized he'd let a lot of men put him in that position. Jarrod was right. What happened with Follet could have happened anytime in the past, or could happen anytime in the future. But how the hell can you change your basic nature, Nick wondered. All right, Jarrod was known to march into a fight now and then, too, and Heath was not one to back down either, but neither one of them seemed to dive in as fast as he did. Nick knew that was true, that while his brothers had tamed that Barkley temper, he never had. Maybe because he didn't want to. Maybe because he thought he was right.

But maybe he was just too stubborn to make the effort to rein himself in.

He didn't hear her come downstairs, but as soon as she said, "You can't sleep," he knew she would have come down after him.

Nick looked over his shoulder from the refreshment table. "Would you like a drink, Mother?"

"No," Victoria said. "I just couldn't sleep either. Heath's not back yet?"

"No," Nick said. "I'm surprised Jarrod's not down here, too."

"There's a light on in his room. I suppose he's at least taking care not to try to get down here without help."

"Oh, Mother," Nick sighed. "I've really fouled things up this time, haven't I? Me getting arrested and then free but not free. Jarrod hobbling around on that bum ankle when he ought to be going easier on it. Heath in town asking questions, maybe of the wrong people."

"Take the responsibility for your own actions, Nick, but your brothers are their own men and responsible for what they do," Victoria said. "They just love you. Don't go thinking that love is misplaced."

Nick gave one little laugh. "It's hard to think otherwise right now."

"Are you afraid?" Victoria asked, point blank.

Nick hesitated, but he said, "Yeah, I'm afraid. Going to prison or hanging isn't the future I planned on."

"It's not the future I ever wanted for you," Victoria said. "And it may not be your future to own. Let Heath and Jarrod work on this. If anyone can find the truth, they will."

Nick looked at her. "And what if the truth is I really am responsible for Follet's death? What if he really did keel over in that alley from the beating I gave him and hit his head and died?"

That prospect left Victoria frozen. For a moment she didn't know what to say. Before she could answer, the front door opened and Heath came in. "Sorry I'm so late," Heath said as he left his hat on the table in the foyer.

"Did you find out anything?" Nick asked as Heath came toward him.

Heath shook his head. "Not a lot. I found out Archer has the sheriff investigating, and I had to promise Fred that if I found out anything, I'd let him know. But so far, all I've been able to do is eliminate people from the list of who might have seen Follet in that alley. Haven't found a soul who admits to seeing him even come out of the saloon, much less go into the alley or see what happened in there."

"Do you think anyone in particular is lying to you?" Victoria asked.

"No, not yet," Heath said. "Is Jarrod still up?"

"He was when I came down," Victoria said.

"Guess I better go fill him in." Heath started to leave.

"Heath – " Nick said, making him stop and turn. "Don't give up yet. I want to know the truth, whatever it is and however long it takes to find it."

Heath nodded. "I'll go back tomorrow, keep buttonholing people. You just keep all our cattle happy."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Jarrod scowled, pulling his sleeping pants on and then sitting back down on his bed. "I knew this wasn't gonna be easy."

Heath tried to sound more upbeat. "At least I haven't found out anything to really cook Nick's goose. If Archer doesn't find out anything more and I don't either, we're not any worse off than we are already. That 'person or persons unknown' will stand."

Jarrod looked at him. "And it'll eat Nick up, wondering if he really is responsible."

Heath had to nod. "But he might have to learn to live with it. Jarrod, I talked to a lot of people today. I'm not sure who to buttonhole tomorrow."

"Whoever you didn't buttonhole today," Jarrod said. "But don't leave it at that. Find out if anybody saw anything in the alley that disappeared, like a wagon or that axe handle we've been talking about, or anything that wasn't there when Follet was found but somebody saw earlier."

"So far, I haven't found anybody who was even in the alley, or even saw Follet go in."

"There will be something," Jarrod said. "I know it's there to be found somewhere. We just haven't found it yet. Check with Fred in the morning, too. See if he found out anything today."

"All right," Heath said and started for the door. "You want me to come help you downstairs in the morning?"

"You or Nick, whoever shows up first. I'm through spending all day hanging around up here. I need to get down in the library and start researching cases like this one. You can bet Archer's doing that."

Heath nodded, said, "Good night," and went out.

Jarrod said good night as Heath closed the door. He sat for a moment on the edge of the bed, trying to think, but then deciding not to. Sometimes his best thoughts came to him when he didn't think. He put out the lamp on his night table and crawled under the blankets.

XXXXX

Jarrod hobbled to the breakfast table with Heath's help in the morning. Heath had a pillow to put under Jarrod's foot, and with a big sigh, Jarrod settled in. Audra smirked a little, and so did Victoria.

"Picking on a cripple," Jarrod muttered.

"Sorry," Audra said and didn't really mean it.

"You going back into town today?" Nick asked of Heath.

"Yeah," Heath said. "Jarrod, do you need me to fetch anything back?"

"No," Jarrod said, "I don't think so. If it turns out I do, I can send Keno back in now that Follet isn't there to beat him up."

"You sure somebody else won't have at him?" Nick asked.

"No," Jarrod said, "but we have to know sooner or later if it's safe for him to go into town. Besides, it's you anybody would go after now, and if we keep you here for a while, there's less likely to be another fight."

"I am sorry about that," Nick said. "I know I haven't apologized enough – "

"We know, Nick," Jarrod said. "You can stop apologizing. We'll make whatever adjustments we need to make when this is all over."

"When do you think that will be?" Victoria asked.

"I'd like it to be today," Jarrod said, "but there's just no telling."

"There'll come a point, if we don't find out anything else, we'll just have to quit looking, won't we?" Nick asked.

"Yes," Jarrod said. And he looked closely at Nick. "There's a good chance you're just going to have to learn to live with not knowing."

Everyone looked at Nick then. They all knew that was going to be very tough, if it came to be. He said, "Well, I suppose I'll burn that bridge when I come to it."

Everyone noticed how he'd mangled the saying, but maybe the way he put it was the right way for the mess he was in. He might actually have to burn the bridge that led to knowing the truth and give up ever knowing it.

Heath still felt in the back of his mind that someone knew something about what happened to Jack Follet. It was just a question of finding that person – but if that person was the one who killed Follet, Heath knew finding him was going to be tough. Then he thought about something. "Jarrod," he said, "what if we offered a reward?"

Now everyone looked at Heath. Jarrod thought about it and shrugged. "We could." But as he thought more, he tried to figure out how to say his thoughts out loud. A reward was good, but who was going to come forward for a Barkley reward if the information pointed to Nick as the "person or persons unknown" responsible for Jack Follet's death? He thought about getting the sheriff to offer the reward, so the Barkley name wasn't attached to it – but there were problems with that too. Somebody could just blame Nick because it was convenient, but that would expose that somebody to charges of leaving Follet to die so maybe no one would come forward. Jarrod's head began to spin from all the possibilities. "Let me think about it," Jarrod said.

Victoria could see by the frown on Jarrod's face that he was struggling with the idea. "Why don't we just let Heath do another day of searching? We can talk more about a reward tonight if we have to."

Nick finished eating fast and got up from the table, very uncomfortable with all this conversation that could end up sending him to prison, or leave him always wondering if he had killed a man. "I better get out to work." He kissed Victoria on the forehead and left without another word.

Heath sighed. "The only way this is gonna come out with Nick feeling good is if we find that axe handle."

Jarrod nodded. "So look hard."

XXXXXXX

As soon as he got to town, Heath went to the sheriff's office but did not find him there. Trying to decide what to do, Heath went to the alley where they had found Follet. He had been there the day before but found nothing, and he wasn't sure why he was going there again now. Maybe just to see who was there, if anyone was. If someone was and Heath hadn't talked to him the day before, it was definitely someone he wanted to talk to now.

But there was only one person in the alley – the sheriff. Fred Madden was nosing around among things left in the alley – barrels, crates, trash. He looked up when he heard Heath come in. "Heath," he said in greeting.

"Looks like we had the same idea, Fred," Heath said. "Finding anything?"

"No," the sheriff said. "I did this before and didn't find anything that could have dented Follet's skull the way it was dented. The trash is different now. A couple of crates are new. But so far, there's nothing helpful here."

Heath nodded and picked at a couple spots himself. There were no axe handles or anything heavy like that. "Fred, show me again where Follet was found."

Sheriff Madden went to a spot directly behind Harry's saloon and pointed. He had shown Heath the spot before. "I'm not sure why you want to see it again."

Heath squatted and looked down at the spot. It was just dirt. There had not been any blood there the last time Heath looked, and the sheriff had said he didn't find any blood there when Follet was found. "I wonder where the blood went," Heath said.

"Easy enough to lose it in shuffling the dirt," the sheriff said.

"But you said you didn't find any when Harry came and got you and you first saw Follet."

"Aw, Heath, he might not have left any blood here to begin with."

Heath stood up. "He didn't bleed much?"

"Not a lot. Didn't even have any on his shirt, except for a sleeve like he'd wiped some blood off his nose after the fight. Nothing much where he was hit in the head."

"I don't get it, Fred," Heath sighed. "There's got to be something been there when you found Follet."

"Unless whoever hit him cleaned it up," the sheriff said.

Heath looked up at him.

"I've been thinking that all along, but I sure couldn't testify to it at the inquest," the sheriff said. "It's too much speculation."

"If we can't get somebody to confess, or if we can't find what he got hit with or fell on to hit his head, we're never gonna figure this one out, are we?"

Sheriff Madden shook his head. "I don't see how."

Heath said, "We kicked around the idea of a reward this morning at the ranch."

"Heath," the sheriff said, "Archer came to me already this morning. He wants to put out a reward himself but when I told him it could bring out the liars who need money, he decided to think about it some more. If I were the Barkleys, I'd stay far away from any reward idea. You might not like what you get."

"I know," Heath said. Then he looked up, and then looked up and down the alley. "I think I'll go see Harry about a cup of coffee. I'm running out of ideas."

"Why are you looking so hard?" the sheriff asked. "Nick's off the hook. Dig too much and you might put him back on it."

"Nick can't stand not knowing, Fred," Heath said. "Jarrod's afraid it'll eat him up. I know if it was me, I'd want my freedom clean, nothing hanging over my head. Guess that's a Barkley trait I can be sure I inherited from the old man."

Sheriff Madden smiled a little. "Stubborness you inherited, too. If Archer decides he wants to put out a reward, I'll let you know."

"And in the meantime, I'll keep nosing around."

"Just be careful. Get too close to fingering somebody else, you might find that nose cut off."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Jarrod went straight to the library after breakfast and started looking into his law books for some kind of case like this one. There had to be something that would tell him what kind of evidence came to light to answer the question before them – what kind of evidence came forward to override an inquest finding of death by person or persons unknown? But it was frustrating. If there was something there, it wasn't easy to find. Jarrod kept digging.

Silas brought him coffee after he'd been at it for a couple hours. "Here's some coffee, Mr. Jarrod," he said and put the tray on the edge of his desk. "Would you like anything to eat?"

"Maybe in an hour or two, Silas," Jarrod said.

"Do you need another pillow under that ankle?"

Jarrod realized he hadn't even given the ankle a thought. "No, thank you, Silas. I'm doing pretty well. At least the ankle is."

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" Silas asked.

Jarrod sighed. "Find me a case where an inquest finding was reversed."

Silas chuckled. "Mr. Jarrod, you only been looking for a couple hours. I seen you take a couple weeks to find a case you were looking for."

Jarrod moaned a little as Silas left. He knew Silas was right. He just didn't want things to take this long this time. All he needed was a case where he could see what evidence got the finding overturned, preferably a case in which a finding of death by person or persons unknown was reversed when that person was found. It didn't matter how the evidence related to Nick's case – whether the law found evidence of a completely unknown person coming to light or evidence to blame on a person who was suspected in the first place. What he found would dictate how he'd defend Nick, if it came to that, or how he could put the blame on someone else. But he wasn't finding anything one way or the other.

He didn't notice Victoria come in. She stopped at the door and looked his way. She saw the scowl on his face and asked, "Is that miserable look because your ankle hurts or because you're worried about Nick?"

Jarrod actually jumped just a hair, startled. "I'm just getting anxious because I can find a case right away that would help anything."

"Maybe there's nothing to find," Victoria said.

Jarrod sighed. "Right now I'm not really even honed in on what to look for."

"Shall I pour you some of this coffee?"

"I'll get some in a while." Jarrod looked closely at his mother and saw the worry lines beginning to appear in her face. "Now, don't let me get you worried. We'll figure this out even if I don't find help in these law books."

"I'm already worried," Victoria said. "Nick has always been quick to jump into a fight. You know that. And the last thing I want you to find out is that he's responsible for Jack Follet's death. I'm just worried that he might believe that being responsible for it is better than not knowing whether he is or not. There's no answer in any law book for that."

"No," Jarrod said.

Victoria shook her head. "We probably should have known this was going to happen sooner or later. Nick's always had a tendency to get into fights too quickly."

"But he's never been one to take a fight to the level that would kill a man, Mother," Jarrod said. "And I don't think he has now."

"If Follet just passed out in the alley and hit his head – "

"Then we'll face the music and deal with it, but there's still no evidence that Nick intended to kill him. He didn't intend it. He's not that kind of man."

"That would just mean prison instead of hanging, though, wouldn't it?"

"Possibly, but Nick needs to know the truth, and so do we. When we find it, we'll deal with it. And if it's bad, I'm not gonna let them take Nick off to prison without a fight. I promise you that."

Victoria finally let herself smile, just a little. "I know you won't. I'll let you get back to finding the answer."

She left, and Jarrod rubbed his forehead. Then he poured some coffee and got back to work.

XXXXXXX

Heath had some coffee at Harry's, then returned to the streets, this time talking to people he hadn't talked to the day before. He talked to a couple he had already talked to – he just didn't remember doing it. He wandered back to the alley a few times, too, looking for anything that might have appeared there since the previous time he was there. Maybe someone came in with some regularity, like a deliveryman. Harry had told him he got his liquor deliveries at around ten or eleven every other day, but he hadn't gotten a delivery on the day of Nick's fight. Heath decided to keep a lookout for any other deliveries going on back there.

But there wasn't much activity this morning. Frustrated, Heath headed back to Harry's saloon, planning on getting a bite to eat and a drink while he made a list of businesses nearby to check for their delivery schedules. On the way there, he stopped. He saw Keno heading into Jarrod's building. He thought idly that Jarrod must have decided he needed something and turned to keep on going to the saloon.

But then he noticed a couple men only a few yards away from him. They were watching Keno. Then suddenly one of them looked Heath's way, and they both began to move off, further down the street.

Heath wondered what that was about. When they were looking Keno's way, they said something to one another, and they wore uncertain looks. When one of them spotted Heath, the other one looked his way too. Their faces went blank before they walked away. Heath didn't know either of the men. He didn't know if Keno had spotted them. All he knew was that something looked fishy, and right now he was ready to check into anything that looked fishy.

Heath went over to Jarrod's office and headed up the stairs there. Keno was in the office with Jarrod's secretary, waiting for her to bring him some books and papers. Keno looked startled.

"Hey, Keno," Heath said.

Keno relaxed. "Hi, Mr. Heath. Mr. Jarrod wanted me to fetch a couple things for him."

Angie came out of Jarrod's inner office carrying two books and some papers. "Hello, Heath," she said.

Heath tipped his hat, then turned his attention to Keno. "Keno, when I saw you come in here, I saw a couple men across the street watching you. Did you see them?"

"No," Keno said, taking the books and papers from Angie.

"Both about mid-height, dark-haired, thin, wearing clothes like you wore when you got out of prison. They looked like they might have known you."

Keno looked confused. "I know a few men around town, but I don't know anybody like that."

"Maybe somebody you knew in prison?"

"Maybe," Keno said, "but I didn't know anybody in there who would have come here when they got out."

"Was anyone other than Follet giving you a hard time when you came to town?" Heath asked.

Keno shook his head. "No. Nobody's given me a hard time today, either."

"You haven't been in town since before Follet died until today, have you?"

"No," Keno said. "You think I'm gonna see trouble from somebody else?"

"I don't know," Heath said, "but I want you to tell me and the sheriff if you do, all right?"

"Sure," Keno said, and now he looked nervous.

Heath gave him a clap on the arm. "It's probably nothing, but after what happened with Nick, I want to know if anything unusual happens with you."

"Sure," Keno said. "I guess I'll be heading back to the ranch. Mr. Jarrod wanted these as soon as I could get them."

"See you later," Heath said, and Keno left.

Angie looked disturbed. "You think somebody else around here is out to give Keno a hard time, don't you?"

"I don't know," Heath said. "I've been checking into this thing about Follet for Jarrod. I'm just being extra nosey into everything."

"How is Jarrod?"

"He's doing right well, getting up and down stairs now. Still ornery that he can't do everything he wants."

Angie smiled. "You men are all alike that way."

"You let me know if you see anybody looking at Keno or me sideways, would you, Angie?"

She nodded. "Of course."

Heath left then, and as he got to the street, he saw Keno riding out of town. He looked around to see if he saw the two men again, but if they were watching Keno, they were doing it from somewhere out of his sight. Heath wondered who they were. He tried to remember something about each of them that Harry might recognize. Then he went on to Harry's to get that food and drink he'd been after in the first place.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Heath arrived home after the others had gathered for drinks in the living room. Jarrod was in his thinking chair, his leg propped up on the coffee table. Nick was standing at the mantle, staring into the fireplace, while Victoria and Audra sat on the settee.

"About time you got here," Nick said, irritated.

Heath left his hat on the table in the foyer and went to the refreshment table, saying, "It's been a long day, Nick."

"Did you find out anything helpful?" Jarrod asked.

"I found two more men looking at Keno sideways when he came into town," Heath said. "I described them to Keno, but he didn't know them. I described them to Harry and the sheriff, and they didn't know them either, and I didn't see them after that. Archer has been talking to Fred about offering a reward for information about Follet but Fred talked him out of it, at least for now. I searched the alley, really in depth, and didn't find anything having to do with Follet's death. I got a list of businesses together and tomorrow I'm going to talk to them about the days and times they usually get deliveries and see if we can match anything to the day and time Follet died. And other than that, I didn't find anything that would tell us anything one way or the other. How about you, Jarrod?"

Jarrod sighed. "I found one case where an inquest jury finding was overturned, but it was going from finding against a particular person to a finding of person or persons unknown, so it wasn't helpful," Jarrod said. "Unless, of course, our jury reverses its finding and finds Nick responsible and then I might need it to get back to a finding of person or persons unknown."

Nick glared at his older brother, but didn't say anything.

"There's no way I'll believe Nick killed Follet, intentionally or accidentally," Audra said.

"Thanks, sweetheart, but as far as accidentally killing him goes, it could have happened," Nick said and looked back into the fireplace.

"Not until we have evidence of it," Jarrod said. "If there's no evidence of it, it didn't happen, Nick. Keep that in your head in case you need it."

"Sure, and that's exactly the way you'd take it if it was you," Nick said and left the room in a huff, heading for the library.

Victoria sighed and got up to go after him. Jarrod and Heath looked at each, wondering if it was one of them who should go, but their looks confirmed that no, it wasn't. Nick needed a softer touch, a mother's touch.

Nick knew someone would be following him into the library but he didn't know who. He was rolling balls around on the billiard table when Victoria came in. He gave her a look over his shoulder.

"It's not their fault if they're not finding anything, Nick," Victoria said.

"I know that," Nick said. "I'm just frustrated, that's all."

"That's something you need to get over," Victoria said, came up beside him and rolled a ball down the table as well. "What Jarrod was trying to tell you is that if they never find out exactly what happened to Follet, it doesn't mean his death was your responsibility. You can't take it on as your responsibility unless there is evidence that it is."

"Now you sound like Jarrod," Nick said. "That may be what the law says, but my head – my _head_ – keeps saying something else. We need to find out that someone else is responsible, or it's gonna be on me."

"In your head. Not in reality."

"Mother, that's not the kind of man I am. I have to know I'm clean on this, or I will always feel dirty."

"Pitying yourself, Nick? That's not the kind of man you are either. If you never have the answer as to how and why Follet actually died, then you have to let it go. Until it is shown that it was something you did that caused his death, then it was NOT anything you did that caused it. You do not run the world, Nick. If it can't be shown that you were responsible, then it would be the height of egotism for you to take the guilt onto yourself. No son of mine is going to be that egotistical."

Nick wasn't buying it. Victoria could see it in his eyes. "It's not that easy, Mother," he said.

"All right," Victoria said. "Take the responsibility onto yourself until it's shown you don't own it, but that's more of an egotist than I ever believed you could be."

Victoria walked out, making sure he understood she was angry with him. Frustrated with his mother now, too, and angry that she had called him egotistical, Nick poured himself a whiskey and drank it down fast, and then he threw the glass into the fireplace. It shattered into a million pieces, and he still didn't feel any better.

He looked up at the portrait of his father, and he felt small. Not egotistical. Not too self-important. Just small. "What would you think?" he asked out loud. No one answered him.

XXXXXXX

When Victoria came back into the living room even angrier than when she had left to talk to Nick, Heath pulled himself away into a corner and kept silent. She explained how she had talked to Nick, and Heath understood immediately why the talk hadn't gone well. Heath knew not knowing the truth was eating at Nick, because it would have eaten at him too. Jarrod understood, too, even though he was the first to try to get Nick to believe that absent any evidence he caused Follet's death, he didn't cause Follet's death. "Maybe it's just something in the male Barkley make-up, Mother," Jarrod offered. "We have to know the truth. We have to _know_ we're clean before we'll believe it."

"No, it's not just the male Barkley make-up," Audra said. "I'd feel the same way, Mother."

Victoria heaved a sigh. "Perhaps. But we have to live in the world of what is, not the world of what might be."

"Don't worry, Mother," Jarrod said. "If no one ever finds out exactly what happened to Jack Follet, Nick will find a way to live with it. We'll help him if he needs it."

"But maybe for now we best just let him have his feelings," Heath said.

Audra nodded.

Victoria looked at each of her children and finally gave in with a nod of her own.

"Maybe I'll find out something tomorrow when I check the delivery schedules of those businesses around there," Heath said.

"And I'll keep looking for case law," Jarrod said. "Heath, do you think I'd better find a runner other than Keno?"

"I don't think so," Heath said. "Whoever those guys watching him were, they didn't seem too threatening. Just have Keno keep his eyes open and let the sheriff and me know if he has trouble."

Nick came into the room, and everyone grew silent and looked at him. He hung his head, but he said, "I'm sorry. I'm just touchy about all this. I'll get over it."

"I never doubted you, Nick," Jarrod said.

"Neither did I," Victoria said. "We'll get through this, no matter what."

Nick nodded to her. "No matter what."

XXXXXXX

The next day found Heath making the rounds of the businesses who received deliveries in the alley where Jack Follet was found. He spent a lot of time with the shopkeepers, and the blacksmith, and the barber, and everyone else within three blocks of Harry's Saloon. He wrote down the information he was given with every intent of going over it with Jarrod when he got home. It made him feel a bit more optimistic, because no one could remember a delivery on the day and during the time between Nick's fight and the time they found Follet. If he fell and hit his head on something, it didn't seem to have anything to do with any delivery in the alley. If he hit his head on something, that something had to still be there or someone took it away, and it wasn't there.

Heath spotted Keno heading for Jarrod's office again – not a minute after he spotted the two men he had seen the day before. They had gone into Harry's together as Heath was coming out of the barbershop in the next block down. Keno was hitching his horse up in front of Jarrod's building.

Heath hustled over to where Keno was dismounting, an idea in his head. "Hey, Keno!" he called.

Keno waited for him.

Heath took his wallet out and handed Keno some money. "I want you to do something for me before you pick up whatever Jarrod wants you to bring him."

"Sure," Keno said, taking the money.

"Go on over to Harry's, buy yourself a drink, and check out the two men dressed in what look likes prison suits," Heath said.

"Are they the men you saw yesterday?"

"Yeah, the ones who were watching you. I'll give you a few minutes to try to talk to them, see if you know them, and then I'll come in and you can introduce me."

"You want to know them?" Keno asked.

"Yeah, I just got an itch. I don't know if I think they have something to do with Nick and his fight, or if I got an itch because I think they might bother you, but I got an itch."

Keno nodded. "All right, but I got to get Mr. Jarrod's things and get them back to him. He had an itch, too."

Heath smiled. "All right. I'll be over there in just a couple minutes."

Keno nodded, pocketed the money, and headed across the street to Harry's.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Keno went into the saloon and spotted the two men Heath had talked about right away. They were standing at the bar and Harry had just poured them each a beer. Keno stood by the door and looked closely at them, but until one of them turned and looked at him, he didn't recognize them. Then the one who saw him smiled, and the other turned and smiled, too. And Keno knew them, and he smiled.

"Keno Nash!" the taller of the two men yelled as Keno came over with his hand extended.

"By golly, I never thought I'd ever see you two again," Keno said and shook their hands. "When did you get out?"

"A week ago," the shorter man said. "We were aiming for St. Louis, but we only had enough money to get us here."

"I won a bit more in a poker game last night," the other man said. "I'm gonna try again tonight and see if I can get that fare together. How about you, Keno? Want to go with us?"

Keno chuckled and shook his head. "No, no, I got a good job on a ranch just a ways from here. I'm learning blacksmithing. The pay is good, I got a roof over my head."

"Beer, Keno?" Harry asked.

Keno nodded. "And people know me. Meg is here."

"Meg?!" the shorter man said.

Keno nodded. "She runs the photography shop. I come see her every Saturday night when I can."

The two men laughed. "Looks like you fell into a bucket of good luck," the taller man said.

"I did," Keno agreed.

Heath came in the door then and joined them at the bar, saying, "Hey, Keno," as he put a coin on the bar and asked Harry for a shot of whiskey.

"Mr. Heath," Keno said politely. "Hey, let me introduce you to a couple of my old friends. This is Ty Moller and Danny Potts. Boys, this is my boss, Heath Barkley."

"Barkley?" Moller, the taller man said. "Whoa, there, Keno, you do have a sweet job."

Heath chuckled. "Keno's turning into a real good blacksmith. You boys been in town long?"

"A few days," Moller said. "Looking to move on as soon as we get some money together."

"Just out of prison?" Heath asked.

Both men immediately looked uneasy. "Yeah," Potts said.

"Well, I wish you both good luck," Heath said. "How do you know Keno? From prison?"

Both men were a little startled at how Heath talked so easily about prison. Keno said, "We knew each other before that."

Heath understood what Keno was saying but not saying. These two men were hounds, like him. Heath just nodded. "Well, you boys just best keep your heads down while you're here," he said, trying to sound friendly. "Keno's had a run-in or two with men who don't like hounds, even ex-hounds. Me, I give a man a chance until he proves he isn't worth it. Keno's proved he's worth it." He downed his whiskey and gave Keno a clap on the arm. "Get my brother's stuff back to him soon as you can, Keno. You know how impatient he can get."

Heath left them alone then and went back across the street – straight to Jarrod's office. He intended to wait there until Keno came over, wanting to find out what Keno might have gotten from those two old friends of his. Angie, Jarrod's secretary, poured him a cup of coffee, asking about Jarrod and when he might be back in the office. Heath told her he didn't think it would be for another couple of weeks, and then they just talked idly for another ten minutes until Keno came in.

Keno looked happy to see Heath was there. "Mr. Heath," he said right away. "I got that itch now too."

XXXXXXX

When Keno delivered two books and several papers to Jarrod upon returning to the house, he stayed a bit, saying, "I talked to Mr. Heath in town, and he thinks I need to talk to you about those men he mentioned to you last night."

Comfortable on the sofa in the library with is leg resting on the coffee table, Jarrod perked up and put the items Keno had just delivered to him aside. "Talk away, Keno. What do I need to know?"

"Their names are Ty Moller and Danny Potts. They don't mean me any harm. They're hounds I knew before I went to prison, and I knew them in prison, too."

Jarrod raised an eyebrow. "Really? Do you think they have anything to do with Jack Follet's death?"

Keno heaved a sigh. "I don't know, Mr. Jarrod, but Mr. Heath thinks they might. They said a couple things that bothered him."

Jarrod pointed to one of the armchairs facing him. "Have a seat, Keno. Tell me what they said."

"I'd just as soon stand," Keno said. "I introduced them to Mr. Heath in the saloon, and after Mr. Heath left, we got to talking about how things were going with me since I got out. I told them that the only man really giving me trouble was Jack Follet, and they laughed."

"Laughed?"

Keno nodded. "I asked them why that was funny, and Danny said, 'well, he ain't giving you any trouble anymore, is he?' I told him I didn't kill the man, and he said, 'we know.' I asked how he knew and he said, 'he gave us trouble too, but he ain't anymore.' After that, they wouldn't talk about it anymore, just wanted to talk about Meg and the other hounds we knew that are gone now. Anyway, what they said made Mr. Heath kinda uneasy when I told him."

Jarrod frowned. "I can see why. Do you think they could have had something to do with Jack Follet's death?"

"I don't know, Mr. Jarrod," Keno said, shaking his head. "They never got picked up for killing anybody before, but I always thought they had a hand in a killing or two. They said Follet gave them trouble in town here. They coulda done it, Mr. Jarrod. Mr. Heath said he's gonna talk to the sheriff about it."

"Keno, do you think they pose a threat to you if the sheriff talks to them?" Jarrod asked.

"I don't know," Keno said. "I ain't too comfortable about things though."

"All right," Jarrod said. "Just to be on the safe side, you stay here at the ranch until this all gets sorted out. I'll talk to Heath about it when he gets home. Did your friends say if they were going to stick around Stockton?"

"They said they were trying to get some money together to go on to St. Louis. I expect they might try harder after they talked to me."

"The sheriff will look out for that, then. You get on back to work with Yankee and don't worry about anything."

Keno nodded and started to leave.

"Keno," Jarrod said. Keno stopped. "Thanks for telling us this. It might end up meaning a lot to Nick."

Keno nodded and left.

Jarrod sat thinking for a moment, wishing to high heaven he wasn't still laid up with this broken ankle, because he had a burning desire to go to town and check into this himself. But looking down at his heavily bandaged ankle, he knew he was better off letting Heath check into it. He knew he'd have a ton of questions for his youngest brother when he got home, though and for the first time, he began to feel heartened that they would find out that someone other than Nick was responsible for Follet's death. He realized it had been days since he felt such a lift in his spirits.

XXXXXXX

"Yeah, I talked to Fred about it," Heath said as he poured himself a whiskey when he got home and gathered with the family. "He's gonna talk to Keno's buddies to see if he can get something out of them to connect them to Follet's killing."

Nick huffed, frustrated. "They did it. I know they did it."

Jarrod said, "Maybe they did, Nick, but without more than we have, Fred can't arrest them. He can question them, but he can't arrest them."

"I wouldn't be surprised if they don't get the heck out of Stockton tonight," Heath said, "if they make enough money at poker to even get to the next town."

"Then we're gonna have to track them down," Nick said.

"Nick, get a hold of things," Jarrod said. "Even if they leave town, we don't have anything to haul them back on. All we got is that they were hounds, and they laughed about Follet being killed. That's doesn't mean enough to get them arrested."

Nick started to yell again.

"And don't go telling me you'll get it out of them!" Jarrod yelled over him. "That kind of behavior is what got you into this mess!"

"Jarrod's right," Victoria said quickly. "Nick, I know you want a clean answer that someone else killed Follet, but this is not the way to go about it. You just settle down."

Nick huffed again, paced a bit in front of the fireplace, then stopped and just stared into it.

"Nick, this should be settling your mind, not making you erupt," Heath said. "At least we've got some idea that somebody else was involved."

Nick turned on both Heath and Jarrod. "Well, just what are you going to do with this 'idea'? Let it go with these two characters when they leave town?"

"No," Jarrod said. "Tomorrow I'm going into town and having a talk with Phil Archer."

"Jarrod, you can't – " Audra started.

"I can and I will," Jarrod said. "Nick, if I take this to Archer, he might do something with it, and even if he doesn't, it might be enough to get him to let the whole thing go. And then you'll know the truth – your fight with Follet didn't have anything to do with his death."

"Do you believe for a minute Archer is gonna give up his little crusade to pin this on me just because of the word of a couple of hounds?" Nick yelled.

"Nick, enough!" Victoria said. "We are not your enemies here! You're the only one who's still afraid you killed Follet. I believe for a fact that if the sheriff had these two men available and the inquest jury had had this information available, they might well have indicted them for Follet's murder."

"Mother's right, Nick," Jarrod said. "There's enough here to settle your mind, if you'll let it, even if these two hounds are never indicted. A minute ago you said you knew they did it. Keep that inside you, even if we can never haul them in."

"But there's one other thing you'd better believe, Nick," Victoria said. "This habit of yours of getting into brawls has got to calm down. This for you has been a warning."

"Mother's right," Jarrod said. "You have to ease off in the future."

Nick turned, rubbing his chin, shaking his head.

"And you're not going anywhere tomorrow," Victoria said to Jarrod.

Jarrod said, "Heath can take me in like he did before. I'm a lot more stable now than I was then."

"It's only been a few days, Jarrod," Heath said.

Jarrod shook his head. "I'm going because we need to put this to rest, and I think we can. I think _I_ can. And then, Nick, once Archer lets this go, _you_ have to let it go."

"I don't know if I can, not without an indictment and a conviction," Nick said.

"Of course you can," Audra protested, loudly now. "You just said you knew they did it!"

"Nick, we may not ever get them arrested, but if Archer drops his investigation because of what those two told Keno, doesn't that tell you he thinks they did it?" Jarrod asked.

"If Archer lets this go, Nick," Heath said, "it's gone. Regardless of what you think, it's gone, so if you keep on thinking it's your fault, it's only gonna be bothering you. Nobody else."

Victoria and Jarrod had been eyeing each other since she had told him not to go into Stockton. Now Jarrod said, "I can take care of this tomorrow. I'll talk to Fred and we'll talk to Archer and this will be over. And Heath and Audra are right, Nick. Once Archer says it's over, it's as over as it can get. Believe it."

"But the fighting has to ease off," Victoria said. "I'm not saying you can't defend yourself when you have to, but you have to ease off a bit."

"I didn't start this one," Nick said. "All I did was move him aside a little."

"Another reason you should let go of the guilt, Nick," Jarrod said. "You didn't start this fight, but you do attract them. Just ease off in the future, and let this one go."

Nick hesitated, but a more solid glare from his mother, and then glares for each of his siblings, calmed him down. "All right," he said. "Let's see what happens tomorrow."


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

When Heath took Jarrod off to town in the buggy the next morning, he wasn't very happy about what he was doing, and neither was anyone else, but Jarrod insisted Heath drive him or he'd take himself. Jarrod wanted to see Sheriff Madden first, and Heath knew he'd be getting a chewing out for being out and about again, but Jarrod wasn't worried about it. He had to do this for Nick, to see if these two old "friends" of Keno's could be the ones to get Follet off Nick's conscience. He didn't think that could happen without his intervention. It required some fancy talking, and Jarrod knew he was the one who could talk the fanciest.

"Fred's gonna have my hide," Heath said as he pulled up to the sheriff's office and climbed down out of the buggy. He went around to the other side and helped Jarrod down.

Struggling less with the crutches this time – because he had gotten more used to them – Jarrod got himself up to the door of the sheriff's office and let himself in as Heath hitched the buggy up. Sheriff Madden took one look at him and rolled his eyes. "Jarrod, what in the blazes are you doing here?"

"Finishing up, I hope," Jarrod said as Heath came in the door behind him. Jarrod sat down. "Tell me about these two hounds you talked to yesterday."

The sheriff was sitting down. He leaned back in his chair. "There's nothing to tell. They got out of town before I could talk to them."

Jarrod's heart fell. "What?"

"Keno must have spooked them," the sheriff said. "They got on the afternoon train south."

"I thought they were broke."

"If they were, they came up with some more money. Harry said they played some poker after Keno left them. I guess they did all right."

"What are you gonna do?" Heath asked.

The sheriff shrugged. "There's not much I can do. I don't have anything to haul them in on."

"Where are they going?"

"Salida, according to the depot clerk," the sheriff said.

"Contact the Salida sheriff," Jarrod said.

"I did, as soon as I found out they were gone, but I got a reply from him this morning and they aren't there. They got away." He shrugged again. "As for St. Louis, I'll contact the police there, but Jarrod, you know as well as I do that two average looking characters can disappear in a city that size and never be found. Besides, St. Louis doesn't have the budget to go scrounging for them, with all they have to do, and I don't have the budget to haul them back here just for questioning. And the police there aren't gonna hold them until somebody can get there to talk to them. We just don't have enough on them."

Jarrod closed his eyes in frustration, but he nodded. "Did you talk to Archer about any of this?"

"Yeah, I did. He said his boss would be happy to hear about it, because he'd already told Archer to give this case up. Let the inquest ruling stand. Death by person or persons unknown. That's all there's ever gonna be, boys. If Nick wants more exoneration, it's not coming. He's gonna have to live with the little bit he got."

That was all there was to say, all there was to do. Jarrod nodded wordlessly and got up. Heath helped him back to the buggy and into it, and they left town without even talking to one another, much less anyone else.

Heath took Jarrod home, but before going to the house, Jarrod asked him to take him out to where Nick was working with a few of the hands on replacing some damaged fence. "You sure you don't want to wait until he comes in?"

"No," Jarrod said. "You're gonna want to come back out to work with him, now that there's no reason to work for me. He's needs to hear this news from me."

"I could keep nosing around on this if you want."

Jarrod shook his head. "Only if Nick wants you to, but I don't see any point to it. You haven't uncovered a thing except these two hounds. There's no guarantee they did it, but the finger isn't pointing anywhere else, either. It's time to stop. We'll see how Nick feels, but I think it's time to stop."

"All right. You're more likely to get him to be happy about it than I am, that's for sure."

"Maybe all this will make Nick ease up on the fighting at least."

"No," Heath said with a sigh. "He'll ease up for a while but then he'll get used to the news and get back to be his regular self. The fighting isn't over, Jarrod. It's just not his way."

"I don't need it to be over," Jarrod said. "Just a little less. Maybe that will stick."

"I guess we'll see."

They rolled up to where Nick and his crew were fixing fence, and Nick came over to them before they got too close to the workers. Whatever they had to say, he wanted to hear it privately. He walked up to the buggy before Jarrod tried to get out, saying, "What did you find out?"

Jarrod said, "The two hounds got out of town before Fred could talk to them. They went south to Salida on the train, but they're not there anymore either. Nobody knows where they went. I'm sorry, Nick."

Nick sighed with a huff. "What happens now? Anything?"

"There's one bit of good news," Jarrod said. "Fred talked to Archer. Archer's boss has instructed him to stop investigating and let the inquest jury's finding stand. You're off the hook for good. There will not be a finding that you are responsible for Follet's death."

"There won't be any finding that I'm not responsible for it either," Nick grumbled.

"No," Jarrod said. "It's time for you to let it go, Nick. The news isn't going to get any better than this. The only innuendo that's going to be floating around is that those two hounds killed him. They had a run-in with Follet, and then they ran out of town when the word started getting out. It's not enough for a court of law, but it is enough for the court of public opinion."

"Except for people who want a Barkley to be responsible," Nick said.

"We've each been plenty unpopular before, Nick. You can wait this out too, if it even comes up."

His brothers could still see the guilt in Nick's eyes. Heath said, "Don't wallow, Nick. It ain't you."

Nick looked at him. "I'm not wallowing."

"Good," Heath said and left it at that. "I'm gonna take Jarrod back to the house and I'll be out here after that."

Jarrod gave Nick a slap on the arm. "It'll pass, Nick. Let it. Give it time."

Nick finally gave them a nod, and Heath turned the buggy and headed home. Nick watched them go. It was hard to let his guilt feelings go, but as he let the news sink in, he knew Jarrod was right. It was not going to get any better than this.

But he still felt terrible. This wasn't clean. This wasn't the ending with the answers he wanted. He knew when he got home he'd be in for a lecture about it, but he still felt bad. The question was, how would he find a way to live with it?

XXXXXXX

"You let it go," Heath said flatly when Nick came to him about it, as they were on the way to the stable to get their horses and go to work the next morning. Nick had lost sleep over it during the night, and he knew he had to talk to someone about it. He knew Heath was the one he should talk to. Everyone else would just lean on him about still feeling bad. Heath would understand. But Heath repeated, "You let it go. Come on, Nick, this can't be the first time you had to let something important go."

Nick thought back. Of course it wasn't the first time, but it was the first time he had to accept he might have killed a man in a fight when he hadn't intended to. Nick shook his head. "Could you accept it, Heath? Could you accept it if you killed a man like this?"

Heath sighed. "I don't know. I never had to look myself in the eye like this. But I know one thing for sure. The best thing you can do in your shoes right now is repent. At worst, you killed a man without intending to. Now you repent, and you do penance. You get your temper under better control. You tell your maker that you're gonna do better, and you do better. And then maybe you can forgive yourself."

But Nick wasn't sure he could do better. "I got a temper on me, Heath."

"I know that," Heath said, "but now and then you can turn the other cheek. I've seen you do it. You just do it more often. You're getting older anyway, Nick. It's time you reined it in a bit. Penance, Nick. That's what's gonna help you feel better. And that's the right thing to do now."

Nick sighed and looked up at the blue sky. He had all kinds of doubt that just reining himself in a bit in the future was going to make him feel better – and he had all kinds of doubt that he could actually rein himself in.

Heath read his mind. He put his hand on Nick's shoulder. "Nick, if it was gonna be easy, it wouldn't be penance."

Nick could understand that point. He finally nodded. "Help me out on it, will you? I just don't have it in me to stop brawling altogether."

Heath chuckled. "All right, I'll help you. Heaven knows you're gonna need it. But you do have it in you to fight less often, Nick. Just follow my fine example."

Now Nick could chuckle himself. Heath was better at reining it in than he was. Maybe Heath wasn't kidding about following his fine example. "All right," Nick said. "But – "

"No," Heath cut him off. "No 'buts' right now. We just let it all lie and get back to work. Save the 'buts' for tomorrow, or better yet, let them lie, too."

Nick gave in and nodded. No matter how he talked and thought and worried, it all still came back around to having to live with a terrible uncertainty. Heath knew better than to think his wisdom had completely calmed his older brother's guilt, but it was a start. He planned on repeating the word "penance" for the rest of his days if he had to.

Heath gave Nick a slap on the back and went into the stable to get his horse. Nick took a deep breath, and repeated the word to himself before he followed his younger brother.

The End


End file.
